


seek me for comfort - call me for solace

by thesupplanter



Series: I'm finding out what makes me wanna live [2]
Category: Avengers, Iron Man - Fandom, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Asexual Character, Gen, Greyspectrum, No Slash, Other, Tony Feels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-19
Updated: 2013-08-19
Packaged: 2017-12-24 00:24:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,487
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/932928
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thesupplanter/pseuds/thesupplanter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They don't talk about it. </p><p>Well, Bruce doesn't say anything about it. He's got some theories, of course- he's a scientist, he always has theories- but Tony isn't an equation to solve (most days). So when Tony wakes up, Bruce talks him into coming out of the lab, putting himself back together. Tony disappears to his floor for a couple of hours, comes out clean and looking a little more awake.</p><p>He shows up in Bruce's living room; he gets a better look at Tony's arm, a little swollen and angry, but nothing to worry about yet. He uses an antiseptic spray just in case- met with enough whining to convince him that Tony's recovering- and wraps it up again. Tony covers it with his shirt; Bruce doesn't say anything about that, either.</p><p> </p><p>Or, Tony spends time with Bruce and finally admits the 'problem'.</p>
            </blockquote>





	seek me for comfort - call me for solace

**Author's Note:**

> This is a greyspectrum alternate universe. Greyspectrum describes part of the sexual/romantic spectrum that includes asexual/aromantic, demisexual/demiromantic, and greysexual/greyromantic. In this series (yes, it is a series), we'll be exploring alternatives to romance-centric plots, since they will be mostly absent, if not completely.
> 
> Basically if you are here for shipping/smut, you're in the wrong place.

They don't talk about it.

Well, Bruce doesn't say anything about it. He's got some theories, of course- he's a scientist, he always has theories- but Tony isn't an equation to solve (most days). So when Tony wakes up, Bruce talks him into coming out of the lab, putting himself back together. Tony disappears to his floor for a couple of hours, comes out clean and looking a little more awake.

He shows up in Bruce's living room; he gets a better look at Tony's arm, a little swollen and angry, but nothing to worry about yet. He uses an antiseptic spray just in case- met with enough whining to convince him that Tony's recovering- and wraps it up again. Tony covers it with his shirt; Bruce doesn't say anything about that, either.

Tony kind of shifts from one foot to the other, almost nervous.

"I didn't really mean to- you know."

Whether he means lock himself in the lab for two weeks or slice his arm open or fall asleep on Bruce's shoulder is left up for interpretation. Bruce just nods, understands.

"It happens. C'mon, it's Steve's night to cook."

That seems to lift Tony's spirits a bit. For someone who grew up in the Great Depression with little access to food, Steve has surpassed all of them in technical skill for preparing meals. They go up to the community floor, Tony still fidgeting a little in the elevator. When the doors open, he slides back into his Stark style, walking around like he owns the place- and he does, technically.

The team, for their part, don't say anything about his sabbatical, though they'd all been concerned in one way or another. Natasha had been the one to suggest Bruce trying to go down to talk to him after a couple of days. Clint offered to try to go in through the vents but that was not advisable. Thor has been in Asgard on his father's business for the first half, but the second has been spent worrying quietly.

Steve has been pretty careful to not overstep himself (being a leader doesn't mean being a mother hen, he's been told), which mostly has kept him from trying to check in on Tony, since he doesn't know where they stand on a good day. He checked with Bruce every few days, asking about progress, making sure there were signs of life at the very least.

When he and Bruce enter for dinner, everyone looks up. Natasha and Clint have had enough training to only look for a moment before going back to what they were doing, not wanting to draw attention. Steve stares a moment longer, wanting to be sure that Tony was fine, before returning his attention to the food he was cooking. Thor is not nearly so subtle.

"Tony! It has been a fortnight since I last had the pleasure of your company!"

He offers a grin, almost sheepish, as he walks up to the table. "I'm sure you've been suffering for it."

"Aye. Come, Steven is preparing a fine meal for us."

Tony settles across from Thor, next to Clint, Bruce flanking his other side- not so subtly guarding the injured arm, making Tony wonder just how much of Bruce is colored instinct-green. He sets those thoughts aside when Steve starts settling food on the table, a simple array that never the less is well received by all in attendance.

After a while, Tony notices that Steve nudges more towards Bruce, which somehow doesn't end up on his plate, but rather on Tony's. It's a little unnerving to say the least, but he pretty much lived on granola bars and coffee for the last two weeks, and the food is hot. He doesn't complain.

He doesn't go back to the lab, either. He settles onto a couch on the team floor, fiddling on his tablet, catching up with this and that network. To Bruce's credit, he doesn't hover over his shoulder, heading down to his floor to do- whatever it is Bruce does on his floor, meditate, smoke pot- whatever.

Tony goes back down to the labs the next day, but the door stays unlocked. Bruce stops in at one point to toss a theory at him, and Tony's happy enough to talk about it. A few hours later, during a lull in conversation as Jarvis processes a request, Tony clears his throat.

"She- it wasn't Pepper's fault. I mean, it wasn't- a new revelation."

Bruce looks at Tony from the corner of his eye, but just nods. "Alright."

Tony doesn't add to his train of thought- at least, not right away. Over the next few days, he continues to drop odd little lines like that, when they're waiting for something to finish, when they're in the elevator together- when Bruce's phone goes off with a text.

"Don't get me wrong, it's not that I don't- for Pepper, I mean, she's hella gorgeous."

"I just- I don't like- I don't want to do things anymore- just because I'm supposed to."

"She tried- for a while, I think she thought I would just- snap out of it but I- didn't."

"Trust me, you know, I just- it'd be a lot simpler if I could just- handle it."

That last one has Bruce worried, but for the most part he answers Tony's admissions with simple phrases, accepting responses. He thinks they might be getting close to whatever it is Tony's dancing around for the last week.

It comes after they've finished one project or another, and they've decided to share a couple of beers in the lab- Tony calls Bruce an uncultured pleb, Bruce tells him that's hardly an insult. They spit a bit of Latin back and forth and they laugh a bit and Tony just- stops, grinning, eyes bright and shining, staring at Bruce as he sighs.

"I never really- wanted to sleep with Pepper. With anyone. I just never wanted it."

Which is what Bruce was almost waiting to hear. He hopes the passing thought of _finally_ doesn't show on his face as he takes another sip.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah." Tony breathes a bit more easily, looking away, back to the lab. "I mean, I don't really- enjoy it, it just feels really mechanical and cold. It feels good, yeah, I mean- I know the science of it, the brain pumps chemicals and the muscles get all- but I don't need- sex to get that, you know?"

Bruce nods a little, trying to form his question as least-offensively as possible.

"So what about your- reputation? You kind of have this- history of promiscuity."

Tony considers that with a small shrug. "Genius billionaire playboy philanthropist, right? Can't be a playboy if I'm not playing. Just like you said, I have a reputation. It's like- you remember the Mandarin, how he was just an actor, just a character- for a long time, that's all I was. The Tony Stark. And sleeping around and being good at it- that's part of that character."

"Yeah, I- I can understand that." Bruce takes another sip, this one fuller than those it follows. "You pretended to be whatever suited the role best. And you just- you didn't have anything left this time?"

"I didn't have anything left this time." It's soft, grateful, almost. "I just- I love Pepper, don't get me wrong, I just- but after everything at Christmas, all I wanted to do was sleep- sleep for the first time in months. No pretending, no tinkering- I could just- recover. But then I got used to just- sleeping with her in my arms, sleeping _with_ her instead of _sleeping_ with her."

Bruce sighs a bit through his nose. "But she- wanted something else?"

"Honestly- I don't know what she needed from me. Whatever it was, Pepper wasn't happy and she has famously been known to not stay where she's not happy." Tony's pulling at the label on his beer bottle. "So she left. Because I couldn't- handle it."

Shaking his head, Bruce mumbles, "This isn't something you just- sweep under the rug, Tony. It doesn't go away because you want it to-"

"I noticed." It's got a hint of Stark Snark, but it's friendly.

"-Then believe me. It's not that simple."

Tony swallows a bit nervously, glancing over at Bruce again.

"What exactly is it?"

"...It sounds a bit like you're asexual, Tony."

Bruce is nervous about volunteering the label; Tony will want to know how he knows it, will want Bruce to talk about- everything.

Tony doesn't, though. He considers the idea for a while, not quite looking at Bruce. Crunching the numbers, Bruce thinks, knowing that look from all the thousands of times he's given Tony something to think about in just the last week. Finally, he shrugs, and taps his knee against Bruce's.

"Tomorrow- we'll figure that out, yeah?"

Bruce chuckles, softly and fondly.

"Alright, Tony."


End file.
